


Vanilla

by longhairshortfuse



Series: Backstory 101 [2]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Episode 101, Flashbacks, M/M, Nostalgia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:24:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9607490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longhairshortfuse/pseuds/longhairshortfuse
Summary: Cecil is enticed into a new shop and gets exactly what he needs.





	

Cecil caught the scent as he walked through town on his way from work to the bar where he was to meet Carlos for dinner and maybe a few drinks, followed by either a movie or, if they didn't like the choice, they could just go home for a quiet night in.

Vanilla. Not like cheap ice cream or car fragrance, but a particular variety of warm vanilla with an undertone of smoke and memory. He stopped after the smell had gone, he had walked past its source before the sensation had fully registered. With a slight frown, Cecil slowly turned. He padded back along the street, looking left and right, sniffing the air like a cat that smells something familiar but not completely trustworthy.

It was a new shop, glass and aluminium door wedged open with a knee-high chalboard sign promising _The best beauty treatments in town!_ A tired-looking potted fern graced the other side of the entrance. Cecil peered inside. The interior was brightly lit at the front and faded into dim shadows at the back. Someone sat on a padded stool at a white bar, back to Cecil, a young woman applying lacquer to her customer's nails with deft, confident strokes.

"Hand under again... thanks... there you go!"  
The young woman stood, her head oddly at the same height it had been before when she perched and hunched over her customer's hands. Cecil waited in the doorway while she received thanks and payment. Once the customer had vanished into the bright sunlight outside, Cecil gave a nervous smile.  
"Hi, um..."  
"Come on in! What can I do for you today?" Cecil felt her scrutiny. "Hmm, we have a massage therapist through the back there, or perhaps I can tempt you with a facial?"  
Cecil watched long, slender fingers wiggle at face height.  
"Um, actually I only wanted..."  
"No! Nonononono." The hands waved gently like fronds in the breeze. "I have to predict what you want. I bet you have no real idea what you are here for, am I right?"  
Cecil raised his eyebrows and looked around the shop, searching. The beautician gestured at a seat next to the one recently vacated by the customer, so happy with a set of bright gel nails that she had cried. Cecil sat, elbows on the clean bar surface, chin resting on one hand. The beautician sat opposite. The incense burner, supporting a small volcano of compressed pale powder with a red ring around it two-thirds of the way down, was within his view now. He watched trails of smoke rise straight up then bend and curl in the air turbulence above their heads. He closed his eyes and breathed, feeling his head clear as the gentle scent permeated his conscious being.

"Mmm," the beautician hummed and bottles clinked under the counter. She laid out a clean white towel and a few shiny tools then smiled at Cecil. "You want a French manicure. You were in a hurry, but I promise it's just what you need today. If you are really worried about being late, I could do a quick hand treatment then a buff and polish. It won't be as effective, but you will feel some benefit. Whaddayasay?"

Cecil examined his nails. They were a little uneven since he had attempted to nibble off a rough corner that had irritated him then tried to smooth it down on the unplastered wall of his office. The gaudy polish Carlos had helped him apply over a week earlier was chipped and flaking. Cecil sighed, nodded and held out his hands. 

The beautician did not talk as she worked. Cecil let his mind drift, soft movement around his hands and vanilla incense smoothing his brow, closing his eyes and causing a smile. He startled at a familiar sound, or perhaps the memory of a sound, but relaxed when a warm, firm hand held his.  
"Cecil? Be good now. Mom's sick and I got homework. You can only stay and play if you're real quiet and you help put the groceries away."  
It was Saturday, late morning. He'd known mom would be sick. She always was until mid afternoon and the vanilla incense Aby burned diffused sluggishly through the house. Cecil pouted but followed his sister to the kitchen and reluctantly cleared the fridge of limp, past-best greens and wrinkled bell peppers, and replaced them with fresh ones that mom would cook if she felt up to it. Aby tried on a smile.  
"Ceece, you should learn to cook. It's way cheaper than fast food and better for you." Aby poked Cecil's side and he squirmed away. "Put some meat on your bones."  
Cecil shrugged. "I guess."

It was his default, survival response to comments about potential improvements to his lifestyle. Neither _yes,_ which would take his free time away from him, nor _no,_ which would earn him a frosty glare and maybe a too-hard nudge on his arm.

Chore done for now, Cecil headed back up to his mom's room. She was awake at last.  
"Hey mom, can I go camping with Earl this weekend?"  
His mom blinked a few times and wiped her hands over her face. She groaned.  
"Cecil, honey, would you bring me some... some tea. Sweet."  
"Okay. About camping, can I–"  
"Ask your sister."

Aby would say no, but she was going to college soon and would live away from home. Then, Cecil imagined, he could do whatever he liked.

"Ow!"  
"Sorry hun, that went a bit too far."

Cecil pulled his hand away and shook it. He frowned at the throbbing cuticle but it looked normal. No, he thought, looking closer, it looked... neat. His nails were filed to short-length rounded crescents of white atop gleaming tan.  
"Am I done?" He asked, looking with puzzlement at the dark incense stick with it's spicy, thick fragrance. It reminded him... no it held no memories at all. It was nice though, it smelled of promises and warmth. He pointed at the wisps of smoke meandering upwards.  
"What's that one?"  
"Oh, mostly sandalwood with a couple of special ingredients. Great for making new, happy memories, if you know what I mean. You want to buy a pack?" The beautician looked at him expectantly. He nodded.

Cecil admired his buffed nails, sniffed and wiped his damp eyes. Carlos would be waiting, he might have ordered for them both already and Cecil wanted most in the world to have stuffed peppers. But... wasn't that Carlos there? Walking towards him? Too far away to make out his perfect teeth or his strong jaw, but Cecil recognised his husband's perfectly uneven gait. He walked to meet Carlos.  
"Hey poot! The bar was closed so I thought I'd cook for you. Look," he opened a bag from Ralph's. "They had some nice peppers and fine beans. I could make a stir fry with live rice and the remainder of the herbs before they all wilt and you throw them away. Oh! You got your nails done! That's so cute!"

Cecil smiled and accepted Carlos's hand. A quiet night in making memories sounded like exactly what he wanted.


End file.
